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The insurance salesman was troubled with his lack of results and determined that his next call would succeed one way or another. Plumbing the depths of his sales expertise, he knocked on the door and awaited developments.

“Yes,” came the query from a small and not too bright or congenial woman.

The fellow immediately began his pitch, and concentrated aggressively on her self-interest as a motive for taking out life insurance on her husband.

"Suppose your husband were to die," said he, "What would you get?"

The woman pondered this notion for some time, then replied,

"Oh, a parrot, I suppose. Then the place wouldn't seem so quiet ..."

----------------A Final Thought ...

“Insurance. An ingenious modern game of chance in which the player is permitted to enjoy the comfortable conviction that he is beating the man who keeps the table.”

- Ambrose Gwinett Bierce (1842-1914?), US author, editor, cynic: The Devil's Dictionary (1881-1906)